Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Chandni Chowk

History has little use for me. I find it difficult to remember things beyond the now and here. I could write reams on the why of it but I doubt it would be of interest to anyone.
I do understand that I miss out on the whole romance of imagining a bygone era and its trappings but that's the way it is.
So when a few close friends offered to show me around Chandni Chowk, it was not the history of the place that catapulted me into action but the fact that I would get to shop and eat to my heart’s content.
I found history all the same, or it, finally found me…..

Colours streak the
Grey suffused skies
I raise my head to the
Jumble of electricity in the air
Having experienced the romance
Of generations gone by
They seem to be whispering into each others ears
Yes, this too shall pass..

“बल्ली मरण से दरीबे तलक..तेरी मेरी कहानी दिल्ली में”
I have heard that before
All that stays with me now, is not the refrain
But the smell that tiptoes around it
I reach out to touch it
all that stays
Is the wisp of feel
The senses blur, collide
all that stays
Is the colour in the sky….

Time suspended in unhindered conversations
And, conversation hanging loose of any intention


They seem to be whispering into each others ears
Yes, this too shall pass..



Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Random Silence

Over the last two days I’ve lost my voice. This happens to me once every six months. And, ya I know its not good but it kind off feels good.
Takes the pressure to respond, off, my already weight burdened soul.

So, I’ve been thinking (I never do that).

When I think of myself old, I see myself as this really hot woman. You think, u can vicariously live off Ur own projections about your own future which comes to u through idle dreams? God, sounds really complicated right now..I’ve actually forgotten the movie I saw her in..But there was this really awesomely pretty old lady with a dimple in her eyes and a twinkling smile..That’s the kind of old age I see.

Frankly speaking, the only thing I miss as a consequence of my obesity is my ability to wear Jeans. I know most of the USA still wears it but I sort of gave up on them a decade back. Till about early college, you’d hardly ever find me in anything else. I so so miss that.

What is it they say – u can’t miss something u never had or did. I want to sit in the rain with my knees cuddled upto my chest, cocoon fashioned. I can’t do it because theres a certain Mr. Tummy coming in the way…I’ve never done it but I really miss it.

I want to go to New Zealand. It's that particular shade of blue that turns me on.

I want it to rain right now and become really cold. Only today, I read somewhere winter is for the melancholic. What bullshit!

Relationship equations always change or, just with our generation?

I’ve always preferred sassy over sexy, chutzpah over intelligence and humour over wit….man, does that make me what I think it makes me???
Which basically sort of translates into the immediate, the spontaneous over structured, planned.

By the way, chutzpah is probably my most favorite word. Yaya I can’t help it if I have a fav word. I have many. So there.

I like staying home with Ishu. The end of the day sees me more accomplished.

There are times when I become a baby not this hugely self sufficient woman in charge of herself and her brood. And, I wonder if that's not the best way to be. Its not something I have at my command. And, the one who does, rarely, uses this power. Pity!

I want to write a script……and I really want to read Parul’s book !

The truth is, theres only one thing I want to live through Ishu. I want him to become a rockstar. And, in own subtle way I keep introducing him to” rockstar concepts”. You think I’m a bad mommy?? Well, I so wanted to be a rockstar and I’ve only realized that at this hugely young age of 36, what do I do?

I read somewhere yesterday – the way you do anything is the way you do everything. Bull, again.

Love is worth it.

And, I want to be ur baby..Pronto!

Thursday, December 04, 2008

We, The People ..

There are times when the Libran in me exhausts me. I sway from finding the balance to losing it with alarming frequency.

Have been immersed in the terror of the last week. Fear resides deep within. I read a beautifully tragic piece by someone I hold in high regard.

As newsflash after backlash happens, there is only one thing I see. Earlier if there were 20 people wanting revenge, today there are 20000.

What I can’t understand is what we expect the government to do?

Do we want to attack because we have no defense?

There is a governance in place but we don’t want to have anything to do with it. This is the bittermost ramification of terror. Random emotions brought to the forefront. Emotions that require only vent. We don’t know how to react so we bury the blame at the funeral pyre of the next easiest target.

We create terror because we are terrorised.

I don’t read much of intellectual literature nor am I a great academic buff. I’m more or less creative in my approach towards life. I don’t assume that I understand the pain of the terror attacks beyond going through the angst in my luxurious sitting room. I’ve cried blind tears because my father taught me long back that tears were useless if they did not take you forward. He tells me even today that my biggest weakness is that I cannot capture anger in the black of my eyes and rear it to be embers that light up the path to be taken.

As cities and families burn in the agony of someone else’s misspent youth, empathy is not something we can expect of them.
Anger is.
However, like in a family in crises there are some who are not amenable to reason as the loss they face is too palpable, too immediate and too crippling, there are others in the family who can seek reason out and bombard themselves with responsibility.
And, this occasion demands exactly this of us. To rise to the front and protect our family members who are incapable of such rationale right now.
Give them time to grieve and not strangle them with ours.
While we are terrorised, they are terror stricken.

There is a government that has sprung into action. There are visual cues that indicate things may be different from now onwards.
Not because a chief minister is changed or the home minister sacked. Because there is no other way out.

Our government should have protected us. Undoubtedly. But we should not have supported the fundamentalists either.

Today the lone terrorist, a kid of 20 odd, drugged to fight a deathly end without sleep for 60 long hours, trained to kill his soul and then others’, expected to stand up to the tears of a billion strong nation state still lives, with an ideology of hate, that he was not born with, but taught.
He says he learnt at the hands of a certain Mr. Narendra Modi.
That is the terror of it.

While the media creates enough angst with its “enough is enough” mantra and, we are fed to repeat, by rote, situations that are best ignored because of their frivolity. I’m sick of Barkha Dutt asking a city that has just stared death in its face about what they feel about the NSGs being north indian more than marathi. She looks visibly scarred and moved. I wonder how she can still ask these questions. Not once but everytime.

I want to scream out and say this is not the time to fight our bitter battles against our politicians.
They suck. Great. Now lets get on with it.
We suck too, for not standing up as one when we most need to..

Did we not know where the earlier terror attacks had come from?
Did we not have these same politicians at the helm?
Were our policies any different then?
Did our DNA not need changing then?
So why is it enough today and not then?

When I was young, I never used to understand why we had to go through a hugely ritualistic period of about 13 days post someones passing away. As usual, my dad came to my rescue. He told me that jumping to conclusions was the easiest way to ignorance. There was a reason why the 13 day ritual came into practice. And, it was based on logic and not religion. The 13 day was a highly strung work intensive period full of ritualistic dos and don’ts so that the family could keep itself busy and not lose itself in the grief of the beholden. Unfortunately, today the only ritual we are being taken through is at the hands of the vouyeristic media machinery we have indulged for so long. So much information, yet still ignorant.

Today, we stand wrecked by self doubt.
We need to observe that 13 day ritual, turn inwards and come back reinforced with the goodness that we seek and not the death that abounds.

We’ve lost lives.
This is a time to build and rebuild.
Not to lose focus.
Our fellow siblings are incabable of restoration right now. They need time to grieve.
We can’t afford grief.
We can fight our internal battles later.

For now, We Resurrect.